Bearclaw Valley a songbird and her cage

all the woman could do was stand there, features withering from a dash of disbelief and affection to one hardened of chiseled confusion and anger. not arktos? she glanced him over then, sweeping from that ruddy crown she knew all too well to the blondes of his nape, the blue-greys of his back. if she had looked closer she might have noticed the subtle differences, but all nephele could see before her was her husband.

"not your name?" she repeated it with bewilderment, eyes slicking flat as she took a step backward. not his name?

"stop fucking with me," she hissed, face scrunched with bitter vexation. he'd never been one to joke, not like this. that alone should have been enough to clue the woman in, but she looked into those eyes of his and saw a life she'd once lived.

"you left me. you left our kids," the frustration burned in waves off her. she hadn't thought on why arktos had left, either assuming he'd died or found something more important than the life they'd built together. but here he was, so boldly claiming he wasn't who she knew him to be.

"why did you leave? why are you here?" but of all the question she could ask, there was one that had brewed beneath her rage for the entire time he'd been explaining himself. "and why the hell are you talking like that!?" because that was not the deep, warm wrangler voice she had know him by.